


Caught some feelings

by BaeBeyza



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Combiner Wars (Cartoon)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, F/M, Fluff, Hugging, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Angst, megatron being flustered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:22:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24427219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaeBeyza/pseuds/BaeBeyza
Summary: After a life time of fighting and being a villain Megatron faced his biggest challenge yet - giving emotional support!Set between the episode 7 and 8 of Power of the Primes
Relationships: Megatron/Windblade (Transformers)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	Caught some feelings

**Author's Note:**

> First fic I ever wrote! Hope who ever finds their way to this rare pair will enjoy what they read ~
> 
> And thousand thanks to @OverlordRaax and @Mogseltof for beta-reading! <3

It felt like ages since Megatron last stared up at the vast expanse of space with no care in the world. Those were the good times.

Now he did care, care  _ about _ the world, about Cybertron, about all Transformers. _ His _ home and  _ his _ people.

Oh, how much that feeling sucked! Why was he doing this anyway? 

To save his own derma, of course. But he only wished it would be that simple. 

Some sort of sense of duty towards the late Optimus perhaps? He trusted Megatron and died for it. And as much as Megatron couldn’t stand the guy, he wasn’t one to let the death of someone go to waste like that.

No, he was gonna finish what the Prime started.

But that wasn’t all of it, no. Something else besides his self-preservation and sense of duty kept him on this path and it annoyed him. 

Annoyed him because he knew exactly what it was but denied it, because the feeling felt nasty. Unwarranted. Unneeded. He didn’t want to feel it. 

He just wanted to be alone, be left alone and not be bothered by anything, return to his exile, fight against anyone who dared to come his way until he rusted away or got defeated.

Going against Megatronus at least offered him the opportunity of finally getting killed. He didn’t intend to lose the fight of course, but even if, the aftermath of their potential defeat wouldn’t bother him anymore. One can’t feel an annoying emotion when offline after all. 

It really wasn’t the potential of losing this battle that kept him awake. It was the possible future; what would he do once they defeated Megatronus and he lived to tell the tale?

Of course he’d simply return to exile, no one wanted him around anyway and he didn’t want to stick around. It would be the most logical choice. Who would complain if he disappeared again and why would he not feel happy about it?

Well, he wouldn’t be happy. 

Every thought on his exiled lifestyle that had previously filled him with the sensation of freedom and peace now filled him with unfulfillment and emptiness. As if the exile was missing something that wasn’t there before, something he didn’t miss before.

And he hated that feeling!

The only reason why he left his exile was to kill Starscream. Do that and return, wouldn’t have taken a week of his life. And now Starscream was dead, but he was still here. Leading a bunch of idiots on a suicide mission, trying to save the universe. All because these idiots, or  _ one _ idiot, just decided he was trustworthy and he refused to disappoint. 

How in the pit did he get attached?

_ Attachment. Ugh. _

With a sigh Megatron turned away from the night sky, closed his optics and rested his helm on his fist. He needed recharge, maybe that would get rid of any stupid emotion that managed to creep it’s way into his systems. Attachment, what a joke. When did that happen? How did he let it happen? And most importantly, what was he even attached to?

_ Or let’s say  _ who _ he was attached to. _

Lifting his helm again he took a look at his current team members. There was that smartaft Perceptor, leaning on Grimlock, who was recharging in dino-mode on his chassis. Megatron still had no clue why that guy was even here.

That furry version of Optimus was recharging in a sitting position with his arms crossed, similar to how Megatron himself had aligned himself for recharge, and Windblade…

Was missing. 

Suddenly all of Megatron’s systems went online and he jerked upwards. He looked around, but couldn’t spot the familiar carmine colour of her armor, the shining gold of her headpiece, or the pretty shape of her wings. 

He hadn’t really paid attention to her when they decided to take a rest. Well actually, he refused to pay attention to her, forcing his attention to the stars, trying to think of something else. 

Oh the irony, he thought, trying to not think about Windblade actually led him back to thinking about Windblade.

However, her not being with the group couldn’t be ignored, so he got up to get a better view of his surroundings.

Their resting place wasn’t dissimilar to the swamps they visited before, though the plant life wasn’t quite as tall. 

With the reeds only reaching his waist at most, he was able to see a clear glowing light source not far away. It came from the ground and he assumed it was a  fluorescent creek.

Looking around their camp again, he noticed that there was a small road to his right which he assumed led to the creek. Afterall, if she had flown to that place he would have heard the sound of her thrusters.

Thrusters he got into close proximity with when Windblade lifted both him and Optimus from the ground with ease. Her strength was surely something to be admired. 

He couldn’t help but smile at that memory as he made his way to the little road. He also couldn’t help covering his face in shame, as though anyone could see him being embarrassing.

Putting up his usual, non-emotional facade, he walked down the little road, took a few turns to the right and then left, until he could see the glowing lake and the silhouette of Windblade, put into shadows with her edges illuminated by the blue light coming from the creek in front of her. 

He stopped in his tracks for a moment as his spark skipped a beat and a feeling of warmth rose in his tanks, spreading through his entire frame.

He would usually just ignore this kind of senseless reaction like he always did, but this time there was something else. There was some dread in his chassis, something was wrong.

As he slowly approached her, he was able to figure out what made him feel so full of dread:

She was sitting, knees drawn up to her chest plates, hugging them close to her and resting her helm on them. Her shoulders were slack and so were her strong wings, drooped down, touching the ground.

She didn’t move at all.

And it was simply  _ wrong.  _

Megatron’s denial and frustration about his feelings turned into determination. Something was bothering her, something was making her feel miserable. Her.  _ Windblade! _

The strong-willed, fearless femme who fought relentlessly against any foe they faced, never giving up or losing hope. So full of energy and dedication. 

The femme who _ decked him _ -

She couldn’t be left feeling down and depressed!

He had to fix this.

Only when he approached her frame and wanted to say something, he had no idea what to say at all. Fix it, but how?

When was the last time he tried to “fix” someone’s bad mood anyway?

Why did he want to do it in the first place? 

_ Should have just gone to recharge. _

“Couldn’t recharge as well, I presume?” Is what Megatron said, startling Windblade. Seemed like she didn’t notice him being there.

“Megatron!” She looked up at him from where she sat on the ground, but went back to her miserable pose after her surprise died down. “Is there something you need?”

_ For you to stop moping _ , Megatron thought, but didn’t say. He wondered if getting under her derma through provocation like he usually did would help, getting a bit of a fight out of her. But no. That wouldn’t fix anything, she’d just continue to mope, but while being mad at him as well now.

He couldn’t believe he actually gave a frag about how someone else felt about him. He just swept that damned thought away for now, but still tried to come up with something to say that wouldn’t be insulting. 

“No, nothing. But perhaps you need something.”

She didn’t answer, but she brought her knees closer to her chest. Oh, this whole situation already unnerved him.

“You know, like someone to lend you their audial.” He watched her reaction again - she slightly turned her helm towards him, sadness staining her beautiful face, but also confusion.

“Are you offering...emotional support?”

“Well, yes.” Megatron responded, slightly irritated at her bewildered tone. Was that so unbelievable? “I am the leader after all, the well-being of my team should matter to me, shouldn’t it?”

“It should, yes, but...well, let’s say you're not one I would have ever thought to spill my spark out to. Or for anyone to spill their spark out to, for that matter.”

Of course not, he’s Megatron, not some soft-sparked idiot like Prime! Mechas didn’t come to him to talk about their feelings, they came to declare war and destruction in his name! No one had time to feel mushy and sentimental!

“There is a first time for everything.” Well, now he had time to feel mushy and sentimental. For her at least.

Windblade was still giving him an incredulous look, before sighing and turning her face away again. Megatron began to think that she wouldn’t talk to him after all, but after another beat she eventually did: “Do you really think there is a way to save Hot Rod?”

_ Ah, the Junior Prime.  _ It was impossible to miss that Windblade cared for the young mech and he must have liked her as well. Afterall, while protecting Megatron’s life she did try to bring out the real Hot Rod by daring him to kill her.

The fact that it didn’t work must have been a harsh blow. 

“If  _ I _ really think he can be saved?” Megatron asked though. What did it matter what he thought, hadn’t he made a joke about  _ killing _ another Prime?

“Y-yes! You said to hope that it won’t come to that, won’t come to being forced to kill him!” 

Ah, he had, hadn’t he? At the moment he wished to give a little hope to the situation, there was hope after all. She sounded like she really needed some sort of reassurance. 

“Well, according to what he said we can be sure that it’s this  _ matrix of chaos  _ that changed him. And if it was put inside him, it can be removed.”

For a moment Windblade seemed to lighten up at this, she straightened her back strut and lifted her wings and her helm up. For a moment Megatron actually thought he’d succeeded at lifting her spirits, but it seemed things weren’t as easy as that.

After her initial moment of hope, doubt crept up her features again. Her wings drooped and she sank into herself yet again, looking unsure of herself.

“What if that isn’t enough?” Megatron could see her lower lip trembling and her optics beginning to fill with coolant.

“He...he said that Hot Rod is dead. What if removing the matrix will change nothing?” Her voice became smaller and more quiet with every word until it cracked at the end.

Megatron could feel his spark break as he watched her sink back into that same position he’d found her in, but this time she was trembling all over. He didn’t come here to make the situation worse.

Without thinking he went straight to his knees close to her and put his servo on her shoulder. “We won’t know unless we try.” When she didn’t react right away Megatron added: “If Unicron’s matrix works anything like the one of leadership, it  _ should _ work.”

Fortunately she lifted her helm again, but turned it away from where Megatron was kneeling next to her, hiding her optics behind her servo.

“I know, but, I...I’m afraid of losing him too,” her voice was shaky and filled with sorrow, “not again, not another friend…” a silent sob escaped her as she tried to turn away from Megatron completely, the coolant that gathered around her optics streaming down her faceplates.

Megatron felt a shiver run through his frame as it filled with anxiety. He didn’t know what to do and the uncertainty killed him. But it also shook him how he’d never considered what she went through to get to this point.

He had to admit, at times he wondered how exactly she became a killer when she cared about other lives so much. Ready to throw punches without hesitation, yes, but still kind. She was on this mission to save and protect people, protect  _ him of all people.  _

Megatron hadn’t really given it a thought, why she chose to kill, but now it became clear.    
The pain of losing people close to you through the actions of others. The pain that once, a lifetime ago, motivated himself to draw a weapon and kill. The pain he got used to ages ago until it barely even mattered anymore. The pain that left him cruel and uncaring about anything.

Uncaring, until now, that is.

He couldn’t honestly claim he regretted a lot of the things he had done in his life. He didn’t regret picking up arms, he didn’t regret rallying mechas to fight in his name and for his cause. He didn’t regret starting the war and the lives he took.

He might not have regretted it, but he did recognize it was not a life he would wish anyone else to live through. He lived that life so no one else had to. 

The kind of life that left him starved of love and kindness, the life that made him feel happiness at the prospect of being exiled from his home, destined to rust alone on an empty, lifeless world.

No one deserved to fall into that life. Especially not his Windblade.

“Windblade, look at me.” He reached out to her and, as gentle as he could, pried her servo from her helm and turned it to face him.

She hesitated and Megatron didn’t push. But eventually she let herself be moved to look at him, her expression one of desperation.

“Hot Rod isn’t dead. We’ll save him.” 

After he spoke those words her expression became even more desperate.

“How can you be so sure?” It was a whisper.

“Because I was under Unicron’s influence as well. As Galvatron.” 

Megatron felt slight relief when he watched Windblade’s optics go wide in realisation. She understood what he meant.

“And you were turned back into your original self as well.” 

“Exactly,” he whispered while using his thumb to wipe her tears away. “He will return to his old self. You will not lose another friend. I promise.”

For the next few klicks not much else happened. Then Windblade took a deep invent while reaching out to Megatron for support as her entire frame seemed to rattle, because of relief or maybe just more frustration, Megatron couldn’t really tell.

But he guessed it must have been something positive when she embraced him, pulling herself close to his frame. 

She was crying in earnest right now, but it no longer held the despair that surrounded her just moments earlier.

“Thank you.” Was what she managed to say at last.

Megatron was honestly a little shocked and surprised by her sudden outburst of emotions, but especially about the embrace. Risking her own life to protect his was one thing, but an  _ embrace? _

He couldn’t think of the last time anyone gave him the pleasure of an embrace, not to mention an embrace filled with such sincerity.

_ Oh Primus… _

He knew of his own ignored and denied feelings for her, but the thought that she could feel the slightest bit of affection for him wasn’t even a thought he needed to deny. He was certain it would never be the case.

And even now there was probably no affection, just her venting out her emotions in gratitude. 

Huh, about that…

“What are you thanking me for? We haven’t done anything yet.”

She took time to answer, probably trying to find her voice again: “You gave me hope. That’s all.” 

Megatron felt a tinge of sadness at those words. He wasn’t hearing them for the first time. And the previous times he heard it, it ended in tragedy.

But when she said it, she broke off her tight embrace to look at him, smiling. 

And by Primus, he could have stared at that smile for all eternity. And that gave him hope in return.

Perhaps this time, just this once, it won’t end in tragedy after all.

Windblade broke their optic contact and fell back into her previous position, clinging to Megatron’s frame. And this time Megatron put his arms around her as well and they just stayed like that in silence for a while.

“By the way,” Windblade broke the silence, sounding much more like herself again. “How come you care about Hot Rod anyway?”

“I don’t.” Megatron said honestly, earning himself a frown from Windblade, so he quickly added: “But you care and I cannot ignore that, can I?”

“Why not?” She had already rested her head against his chassis again, but he could hear some smugness in her voice.  _ Slag, she knows. _ And even worse  _ she wants it confirmed.  _

“Well,” he started, but had some difficulty continuing. 

“Hm?” Megatron could practically see her grin, curse her for making him stutter!

“Because I care about you,” he stammered out finally, feeling the urge to hide his face from embarrassment. “Don’t get used to it though.”

A quiet chuckle escaped Windblade. “Wouldn’t think of it.”

Though if Megatron had to be honest, he would love nothing more than making her get used to it.   


**Author's Note:**

> Writing isn't my strong suit, but drawing is! So I made art of this story, you can find it here ~  
> https://baebeyza.tumblr.com/post/619201671693729792/finished-piece-oh-to-have-former-warlord-bf-to


End file.
